


Firsts and Lasts

by ThePoeticMadman



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff, I wrote this while trying to entertain myself on the bus and train on my way back home from school, M/M, mostly - Freeform, nothing else, that's pretty much it, uhh mention of a dead body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 09:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21013775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePoeticMadman/pseuds/ThePoeticMadman
Summary: Calling each other by first names, first and last times in the year.





	Firsts and Lasts

**Author's Note:**

> Short fic for the Shuake week, Day 1. Prompts were Firsts and Lasts, and I got an idea about them calling each other by first names.
> 
> English isn't my native language, so apologies for any mistakes, if they're here.
> 
> I also do not own Persona 5, nor any of these characters.

The first time he’s called by his name, they’re arguing. The boy with messy hair screams at him, and he freezes at the mention of his first name.

“Do not. Call me that,” he growls. He’s been called by his last name his whole life (or so he likes to pretend), and that was _fine. _He doesn’t like reviving dead memories he buried deeply under his skin long time ago. There’s no use in remembering them. No use in remembering the dead body, the first of many people abandoning him. The woman took her life years ago. Reminiscence is useless now.

The first time he’s called by his name, they’re arguing. The boy with brown hair spits it out as if it was a piece of trash, his voice loud and strained and disgusted. He screams at him, calling him names, but he doesn’t take notice of that.

“You called me by my name,” he doesn’t know why he feels the need to point that out.

The other boy smirks and makes a hoarse sound. “Sure I did, because otherwise you just wouldn’t fucking listen. I did _not _save your ass that time to see you die now because of your godforsaken stupidity!”

He doesn’t call him by name the next day, or the day after.

The last time they’re called by name that year, it’s almost a new year. They’re watching the fireworks from the little attic, close to window, sitting side by side to each other. When the counting from the outside starts, he hears whisper next to him.

“Happy new year, Goro.”

He doesn’t freeze when his name is said, but he still doesn’t like it. It doesn’t feel right.

Both don’t take their eyes off the sky full of colourful lights. When the boy almost thinks the other the other ignored him, he hears whisper as well, though the voice is rough.

“Happy new year, Akira.”

An enormous explosion in the sky lights up the little attic. The boy with glasses leans closer to his companion’s side. The other grunts, but also leans to the touch.

They’ve survived this year. They’ll survive another one.


End file.
